“I’ve always been a bit obsessed with Paradise Lost. I really dug deep into the poem and its author, John Milton. As I was reading a lot of his political essays I realized that a lot of what ‘Satan’ says in Paradise Lost are quotes directly from John Milton’s own mouth. A lot of people thought he was the devil back then. He had a huge problem with the show of opulence from the Church. He thought it was disgusting. His poem is about the failed revolution against the Church of England, which is Satan’s failed revolution on earth. And what’s more incredible or exciting than a failed revolution?”
—Bert McCracken, The Used
and i’m doing my best PART 1
Music, television, movies and the characters that come from them.
I’ve always felt like they were there for me when no one else could be – when no one else understood me, or even cared to. This may not have always been the case, as I’m realizing that I’ve always had a lot of people who love me and who would probably have been there for me if I had reached out for help.
My problem was usually that I never bothered to ask, because I felt like I didn’t deserve help in the first place. I felt like I would have just ended up being a source of unwanted annoyance. That my problems weren’t all that bad, and that I should be able to handle them on my own.
My problems quickly spiraled out of control at a very young age. And I don’t think anyone really knew what to do with me. Not my parents, or my friends. Not even the countless doctors and psychiatrists I’d see over the years.
They did their best, obviously, and therapy/medication was able to subdue some underlying causes for my growing madness. But they were only ever able to scratch at the surface – I’ve never been able to get at the core problems. Probably cuz I wasn’t aware of what those were.
But I do now. At least, for the most part.
Problems have been haunting me for years now. And for the longest time, I acted like they didn’t really mean that much. That they were just terrible things that had happened and I needed to just learn how to get over them and move on. So that’s what I tried to do. And for over a decade, I thought I was doing an okay job at it.
But now, they’ve been bubbling back up to the surface. They’ve been harder to ignore. Hard to forget about the dozens of people who’ve harmed me, used me, betrayed me and took advantage of me.
It makes me sick to my stomach. Makes me wish I could do something, even – at the very least – something where I can finally being able to speak my truth, without fear of repercussions or an overwhelming, unjustified backlash.
I’m not going to go full on Joker and start killing people, or getting revenge on the people who fucked me over. Nah. I’m not ending up like that. Like another cliche’d criminal.
I’m not going to give people just another reason to hate me, and dismiss me, or the problems I’ve had to deal with because of what they’ve done to me.
No.
I’m going to grow from all of this. Even if it takes me my whole life to truly get over everything that’s happened, at least I’ll be able to die with some sense of peace.
I want my story to be heard. To be shared. I want that as my form of justice.
I want to give a big “FUCK YOU” to all the assholes that caused so much damage to my life, and set me back so far emotionally, mentally and physically.
I want them to know that they did something fucked up. And I want them to apologize. And admit that they were wrong.
But if I don’t get that from them. Then at least I’ll have shared my story. At least I’ll feel like I’ve been heard.
And hopefully, I can then use my experiences to help others. To show them that they aren’t alone. To maybe even prevent them from having to experience some of the same torment and hopelessness that I’ve had to experience for so long.
So anyway, back to the main point. About the characters from my favorite shows and movies really being my true personal heroes, and being one of my main support systems throughout my life, ESPECIALLY when times were EXTREMELY difficult.
I feel like the characters in my favorite cartoons, anime, and other media have literally become some of my “best friends,” or my real-life heroes.
Zim, Dib, Goku, Vegeta, Arthur Fleck, and Joker all have had a truly lasting impact on me. They aren’t the only ones of course, but they’ve been the main ones for sure.
It reminds me of the book Sundays at Tiffany’s by James Patterson and Gabrielle Charbonnet. Which is funny, because what I’m about to say next sounds pretty crazy, but I swear it’s all true. At least, as truthful as I can be, based on everything I remember.
But early on in my childhood, I was always the kid that kid of wandered off by herself, getting lost in the imaginings of her mind.
There’s one time when I must have been 5 or 6, and my mother had taken me and my siblings with her on her weekly shopping trip. And I would always get so bored while she was picking things out, so I started to look around and entertain myself by all the different colors, and designs on the shirts, but eventually my siblings and I would start playing silly games like hide and go seek.
I always liked to crawl out underneath the clothes and start acting like a rabid animal to try and scare them, or try to hide in a new spot as my brother would try to find me. And eventually the three of us would run into each other and all start laughing. As we’d be walking back to find our mom, we’d think of ways that we could scare her, too, because she’s always been someone who jumps at the smallest thing.
But all of the sudden, I couldn’t find my siblings anymore, and I couldn’t even remember exactly which way was the right way back.
I don’t remember if I cried … But I remember feeling absolutely terrified and confused. I didn’t know what to do or who would be the best person to help me.
I remember an older woman saw me, and she must have started noticing that my parents weren’t around. She was very sweet, and wanted to make sure I was okay.
She eventually helped me find my mom, who was of course, panicking like crazy from the fear that she’d lost me.
Like I said, it’s all still kind of weird because I don’t remember crying like a baby or anything. I was just acting as calm as I could, even though I didn’t know what to do.
And before anyone – ANYONE, starts to say something like my mom wasn’t a good parent because she didn’t keep an eye on her children, you need to stop.
She was an amazing parent. But she was often tasked with keeping an eye on all three of us while having to do errands or other similar things.
Hell, right now, I can’t even manage to keep my own personal life organized so I don’t know how she managed to take care of the three of us, my father, and then herself.
Plus, back then things were different. The world overall just seemed like a safer place.
You could let your kids go play in the store while you were shopping, without fear of them getting lost or being snatched away by a stranger.
Back then … things just seemed … calmer.
I used to constantly have nightmares where my family was packing their bags and trying to leave me behind, and I would try to scream or run but I couldn’t move.
And I had nightmares about so many different monsters. Like a shark attack, chomping off your leg and a part of the surfboard.
Around this time, every night when I looked up at the ceiling when I couldn’t sleep, I started seeing all these different colored ‘bugs’ crawling or flying around (in reality, it was just the shadows and reflections on the walls).
But that kind of feeling of being watched, well, I guess it was the least worrying problems?
I’ve had so many thoughts of self harm and suicide throughout my life. I started cutting myself early on in high school. I didn’t even really know why at the time. But I think it’s because I’ve just always had this feeling of being different. Being weird. Disgusting. Worthless … And even when I did find the guy that I thought I would be with forever, he would eventually end up leaving me. Like so many of them did.
Like one of my exes, telling me that they just couldn’t handle me.
Meanwhile, they were hooking up with my ‘best friend’ since 4th grade, A WEEK after him and I started dating.
And I didn’t find out the whole truth about it until a couple years after we had broken up.
But I always knew there was something going on. I knew he had always liked her. But – get this –
She had a BOYFRIEND of THREE YEARS. One that we all knew because it was in our group of ‘friends.’
So yeah. I was heartbroken and confused over why he didn’t seem to love me, but wanted my friends. I tried so hard to make him happy. Only for him to ditch me at a party to take mushrooms with one of my friends … which led me into a massive mental break down …
And I started slamming my head against the wall, or burning myself with a lighter.
It just made me realize … none of these people were ever really my friends. Not friends that mattered anyway.
It also made me realize, that maybe I should probably go back to therapy. HAH.
Except the medical system has just been another thing in my life that has constantly let me down, or just been practically impossible to work with.
continued next monday —
—kaitlynjane
Flommist KAiTLYNjane has been drawing and writing stories ever since she knew how to scribble on a piece of paper, or her sister’s forehead when she was just two weeks old. Copyright © 2020 KAiTLYNjane.
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